


begin life anew.

by noahloveszombies (orphan_account)



Category: Team Fortress 2, The Last of Us
Genre: Gross, Heavy Angst, Infected Scout, i threw these symptoms in last minute, the zombies can pick up on who's infected by Smell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 03:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21092891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/noahloveszombies
Summary: scout pays the price for a hasty mistake.





	begin life anew.

Heavy rain hits the roof above the boy's head, the idle pitter-patter falling into a comfortable rhythm. Scout idly scratches at his arm, attempting to rid himself of a rather persistant itch that feels as if it were just under the surface of his skin. There's a tickle in the back of his throat, and he clears it, only for that too to remain. Annoying.

He coughs into his hand, lightly at first, before practically hacking up whatever had managed to wyrm its way into his lungs, body shaking at the intensity of the coughing fit. After the fit subsides, tentatively, Scout pulls his hand from his mouth, expecting to see blood. In his palm lay settled spores. His vision blurs with panicked tears. His memory takes him back to just a few days ago, when he had left his mask behind in his hurry, before heading out of the quarantine zone. He had been certain it would be fine. Apparently, he was wrong.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. His body trembles as he pulls himself to a shaky stand, unsure of whether or not it's caused by his frightened state or... something else. He has to get out of here, has to stop it from spreading to his family- God, what would he tell his ma?

Scout sucks in another breath, and it hitches in the back of his throat as the itch returns full force. He coughs heavily, his arm shooting out to stabilize himself against the nearby wall. The sound echoes in the empty room, and more spores tumble from his mouth, falling to the floor due to the stilled air. As soon as he's able to walk again, he shoots out of the door, pushing past whatever may be in his way, the corners of his vision beginning to blur. He reaches the gate to the zone, the guards nowhere to be seen. Probably laying about, waiting for an excuse to shoot someone else. He's not going to let it be him.

He slams his body full-force into the gates, the iron clattering loudly as it swings open. Ignoring the dull ache in his side, Scout dashes through the gap, stumbling as he sprints. He has no idea where he's going, or what he'll do, only that he has to get away from his friends, unless he wants to infect them as well.

A nearby Runner growls at him, and for a second, he thinks this may be it for him- until it sniffs the air, and the face underneath the rot and fungus gives him a look of pity. He didn't think they were even able to emote. Its jaw opens, the boy recoiling instinctively, but it presses on undeterred to form a sentence.

Scout is unable to understand anything except the sound of the letter S, its speech garbled and hoarse. It gives him one last look before shambling away. He presses himself up against the crumbling wall behind him, knees quaking as they give out from underneath him. That's the future that awaits him. Presumably alive underneath the roots of the Infection, forsaken to stagger through these empty streets, no longer in control of himself. A sob of terror pushes its way out of his mouth.

He forces himself to think of something else, anything. His mind flits to the dull itch in his arm, slowly growing stronger, and he scratches at the skin fervently to relieve himself of the annoyance. The flesh on his arm is disgustingly soft, giving way as soon as his fingertips make contact. They feel wet. He forces himself not to look. At least the itch has begun to subside.

He suddenly jerks his hand away, confusion lapsing over his frantic mind. He hadn't meant to do that. He hadn't even thought to do that. His fingers tremble of their own will, and his heart speeds up, pounding against his chest like the sprinting feet of a jackrabbit. Another cough tears him away from the realization he was about to make, and the Infected don't even turn to give Scout a spare look as he hacks up even more spores.

As soon as he's done, he slumps back against the wall. It's late, and he's exhausted, frightened, alone. He slips into unconsciousness. When he awakes, he doesn't recognize the sight of himself, barely able to make out his body as it forces itself upright. Scout attempts to move his hand, and gets only a tremble in response.

There's a noise, to his right. His head snaps to the direction. His vision is blurry, and he can't quite make out the shape, but he knows there's something there. He screams, the sound guttural and raw, and legs that don't feel like his own push him toward the shape, the rest of the Runners following alongside the now infected boy.


End file.
